


Student Sentinel

by Icebear



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: AU, Alternate Universes, M/M, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 10:57:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/797890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icebear/pseuds/Icebear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this AU Blair is still a bouncing anthro grad student.  Jim has returned to school after a disability forces him out of the CPD.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Student Sentinel

## Student Sentinel

#### by Ice Bear

  
  
  
  
This story is a sequel to: 

* * *

It was three days before the fall semester began, and the campus bookstore was a madhouse. A long haired young man in tight, worn jeans sporting a red flannel shirt over a blue Henley weaved his way among the shelves, hands in motion as he spoke to the man following him. "Wow, would you get a look at that!" He whistled softly as he pointed at a 6'1" Adonis; sleek and muscular in a navy blue sweater and jeans that accented his assets. 

"Come on Blair, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were looking for a sugar daddy," his companion responded with a grin. 

"Yeah, like I always troll for wealthy older men in college books stores! Besides I don't think he's that old, probably 35-56. I wonder what he teaches?" 

"No time like the present to find out," his companion suggested before veering off toward the biology section. 

Blair maneuvered himself into the checkout line behind the object of his interest. He noted the three forensic textbooks in the right hand, while the left rested tightly on the head of a cane. Readying his opening line, he was startled by a shriek, "Professor Sandburg!" 

A blonde coed erupted from the next line and flung her arms around him. "Ah, hey Bridget, have a nice summer? And remember its Mister not professor." He looked up in time to catch a glimpse of sky blue eyes and a smirk before his target placed his books on the counter and got out his wallet. 

"Great, just great," he muttered disengaging himself from the student just in time to see tall and good looking headed out the door. "Not how I would have picked to make my first impression." 

"Oh, I don't know, Chief," the older man said softly as he reached his car, "it was certainly memorable." 

A week later, the anthropology TA was hurrying across campus, arms so loaded with books, his hair was the only thing visible above them. "Oh man, I'm so sorry," he groaned from his spot on the grass after colliding with something solid and warm. 

"Easy there, Chief. Why don't you give me half so you can at least see where you're going? Don't think the campus needs anymore safety hazards." 

Blair looked up into sky blue eyes and was mesmerized. "I...you sure?" 

"Yeah, where are we headed anyway?" The Adonis from the bookstore asked as he reached a hand down and easily pulled the younger man to his feet. 

"The library. In twenty minutes all these books will be overdue, and if that happens, I won't be able to afford food for the rest of the semester." Blair responded, reluctantly letting go of the large, warm hand that clasped his. 

"Lead on." The older man ordered as they finished distributing the books between them. They managed the trip to the library without further incident. 

"Thanks, I'm Blair, by the way." He offered as they stood at the top of the library's steps. 

"Jim." They shook hands, and the younger man held on a moment longer than necessary. 

"Seems the least I can do is buy you a cup of coffee for willingly serving as my pack mule." He offered with a smile while his mind was thinking that repayment should include at least a week of wild sex. 

"Rain check, Chief? I got a class in 20 minutes, and the room's half way across campus." 

"Sure, I ah...my office is in the basement in Hargrove, when you're ready to collect." 

Thursday afternoon the TA didn't even look up, expecting yet another student ready and willing to complain about the first paper he'd assigned. "My office hours don't start until 4:00." 

"This how you avoid settling all your debts, Chief?" 

"Jim! Wow, hey, I just," he wasn't expecting the jolt he got when he looked up into the blue eyes. 

"Sounds like you need the coffee more than I do, let's go." 

"So Jim, what do you teach?" He asked once they were settled at a table in the small coffee shop on campus. He absently noted that the man picked a seat against the wall at a table that gave him a view of the entire room. 

Coffee sputtered across the table. "Teach? You must have me confused with someone else. I'm working on getting a Master's in forensic science." 

`Oh, well, I just figured..." 

"Old guy like me must be a professor." 

"Not that you're old, but yeah, something like that." 

"Chief, always check your facts, never assume." 

"Been studying long?" 

"No," the older man hesitated and the younger man yearned to reach out and touch the absurdly long lashes hiding the blue eyes, "when they put me on disability I figured I needed something to keep me from going stir crazy." Blair didn't miss the way the blue eyes clouded over as his companion hesitantly made his way over the words. 

"Good plan. Me, I feel like I've been studying half my life. Started college at 16 and got my Masters at 21. I've been working on my PhD in anthropology ever since." 

Blair had trouble paying attention to his students' woes that afternoon as his mind kept returning to Jim. He had a feeling there was far more to his story. Maybe he'd have to do a little research. 

Shortly after 7 pm Tuesday night, Jim had just put his books in the jeep when he heard the younger man's angry voice. Closing the car door, he walked three lanes over and found Blair, his head tucked under his car's hood, cursing. "Your students may take your every word as the gospel, Professor, but I doubt it'll do you much good with this heap of junk." 

Blair stood up, and huffed out his irritation. "She's a classic, man." 

"Right," Jim responded skeptically. "Let me take a look." The older man was leaning over the engine before the TA knew it. He simply stood back and enjoyed the view - khakis stretched over one fine looking ass. He sighed longingly. 

"Fan belt's done in. I have a friend who can probably dig one up, but not tonight. Why don't I give you a ride home?" 

Arriving at the jeep, three rows over and ten cars up the lot from the Corvair, the TA noted that his companion's books were already in the car, making him wonder just how the older man had known he was having a problem. On the drive home, Blair kept up a steady stream of chatter covering U gossip. When Jim pulled up outside what he would have sworn was an abandoned warehouse, he leaned back against his seat and cocked his head slightly. Blair watched him with interest. "Not the safest neighborhood, Sandburg," he growled, almost angrily. 

"What are you, the police commissioner, man? Just because you gave me a ride doesn't mean I'm going sit here, and let you trash my abode. It may not be much but it is home - my home. Thanks for the ride." He hopped out and stalked to the door. He would have been surprised, had he checked, to find the jeep still there two hours later. 

Backpack over one shoulder, arms full of books, he startled at a voice right behind him as he struggled to close the door the next morning. "I'll get the door, Sandburg." 

"What are you doing here?" Still smarting over the remark about his neighborhood from last night, he rounded on the other man. 

"My friend was able to find a fan belt for your `classic'. I thought we could install it before your first class." Jim wasn't sure why he was standing there, after all he barely knew the man. But he enjoyed his company, and, for some reason, everything just seemed "right" when he was with him. 

^^^^^ 

The TA was hunched over a paper in a small student hang out, editing a chapter of his diss. He had a coffee in one hand and a red pen in the other. "Hey Sandburg, I need at least a B on that paper we just turned in." A big jock, wearing a football jersey, suddenly loomed over the table. 

"I haven't graded them yet, Leon, but if you've been reading the assignments, you should be fine." 

"It's not about should be, Sandburg, it's about getting at least a B. Otherwise I'll have to sit out the season. Not going to happen." 

The student's attempt to be menacing was lost on the TA. Clear blue eyes looked squarely at the man standing over him. "Look, Leon, we've been over this before. If you're having trouble, there are tutors and extra credit work. But I don't know why we're having this discussion since I haven't even looked at the papers yet." 

"Look you little," the jock raised his hand angrily, only to have it jerked none too gently behind his back. 

"You heard Mr. Sandburg. If you need a tutor after he's graded the paper, he'll make sure you get one. Now aren't you going to be late for practice?" Leon shook his right arm gingerly and backed away from the older man. He was closer to his size then Sandburg, but it was the look in his eye - the calm, cold calculating look - that backed him off. 

"Hey, man, thanks," Blair said softly as they watched the football center stalk off. 

"You alright, Chief?" 

"Yeah. Haven't seen you in here before." 

It was true, but he wasn't about to explain that he heard the TA's elevated heartbeat while heading for his car, two buildings away. "The cafeteria's too noisy, and I needed something to eat before my next class." 

"Grab a seat," he offered gesturing to the empty chair, "plenty of room." 

Jim ordered as soon as the waiter came over, before looking at the numerous red marks on the page in front of the younger man. "Please tell me that's not Leon's paper." 

"No," Blair laughed, "it's a chapter for my diss, and I'm trying to finish editing it so I can turn it in next week." 

"You that tough on your students?" Blair shrugged as Jim's coffee arrived. "What's your topic?" 

Blue eyes sparked as they looked up from the paper. "Sentinels. See, I read this book when I was a kid about the Sentinels of Paraguay. It was by Sir Richard Burton, the explorer not the actor. Seems many primitive tribes had these watchmen with five enhanced senses. They patrolled the borders, led hunting parties and provided early warnings to changes in the weather." He stopped when he noted the apprehensive look on Jim's face. "Jim, something wrong?" 

Shaking himself, the older man straightened up, "Nothing. Sounds interesting. Have you found any, ah...any Sentinels?" 

"No...I've found hundreds of people who have one or two enhanced senses - you know like people who test perfume and wine - but no one with all five. I've read some interesting stories about them, though. And one tribe in Peru - the Chopec - had one recently, but he seems to have disappeared. I was down there on a dig and had a chance to talk with their Shaman. Man, he told some pretty amazing stories about Enqueri - that was their Sentinel. Said I'd find him...at least that's what I think he said - my Quechua isn't that good." 

Jim froze. This couldn't possibly be happening. It couldn't be. The kid must have set him up. It's the only thing that made sense. 

"Jim, Jim come on, man, come back to me. There you go. Come on back to me, Jim. Everything's alright. You with me, man?" 

Oh god, he'd zoned, and in front of this guy who was studying what he was. He shook his head to clear it, and stood up, brushing the warm hand off his arm. "I'm...I'm not feeling so well, I've got to go." 

"Wow, wonder what it is that I said?" Blair asked his diss chapter softly after watching the older man stumble out of the crowded cafe. 

"If you only knew," Jim responded as he fumbled for his keys in the parking lot. 

Concerned about his behavior, and at the same time intrigued, Blair did some digging. He convinced a friend in the Admin office to show him the older man's file. Now that he had a last name, he could find out almost everything he needed to know. A computer search turned up a NEWS cover story. He vaguely remembered reading it at the time - Army Ranger coming out of the jungle alive after 18 months with the Chopec in Peru. He stared thoughtfully at the handsome face on the cover while he pondered why Jim hadn't shared this information with him when he'd brought up the Chopec. Certainly the ex-Ranger had at least met the Shaman while living with the tribe. 

He tried to waylay Jim over the course of the next two weeks, but it was almost like the older man knew he was being stalked and avoided him. He considered simply showing up at his home on Prospect - he'd gotten the address from the file - but that was a bit close to the line and he didn't want to scare him off. When he finally did corner him, late one afternoon outside the Physical Sciences building, he lost it. "I can't believe you didn't tell me!" He bellowed; hands poised belligerently on his hips. 

"Tell you what?" Defensive, Ellison drew himself to his full height, screwing on a face that had sent many a lesser man scurrying for cover. 

"You're that James Ellison," he said throwing an old copy of the NEWS magazine at him. "I told you about the Chopec, and you never said a word." 

"My life is none of your business." 

"It most certainly is." 

"Fine - my mother left when I was 8; I left home at 18 because my father made everything a competition with my younger brother; I was in the Rangers and lost 7 good men in a helicopter crash. The Chopec found me - 18 months later I was rescued. I left the Army after I realized my CO had something to do with the chopper crash. I came home, got a job, got married; got divorced; got put out to pasture; and now I'm going to school - anything else you want to know, you can wait for the movie like everybody else." Completing his rant, the older man stalked off. 

Blair stood, shocked into silence by the amount of pain behind all the anger that had just been unleashed. "I can't believe I just did that to him. I must be a total idiot. Now, he's never going to speak to me again." 

^^^^^ 

Thursday night, Blair stuffed the last of his papers into his backpack and headed for his car. He'd turned in another diss chapter that morning and stayed after class to finish grading two batches of papers and one quiz so he'd have the weekend to work on a paper of his own. As he opened the door to the Corvair, he became aware of loud voices two rows over and the thump of something bouncing off a car and hitting the pavement hard. Glancing up, he saw Leon and several of his buddies gathered in a circle. A car swung up the lane between them, its headlights illuminating the players, and they scattered. 

Not sure why he didn't just get into his car and go home, Blair found himself walking over to the area the players had just vacated. "Oh god," he whispered as he caught sight of Jim Ellison's still body. "No, Jim!" He went to his knees, feeling frantically for a pulse. "Okay, man that's a start. I'll get you some help." He pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911, demanding an ambulance. 

"Detective Ellison?" The first officer on the scene asked as he knelt beside them on the pavement. 

"Detective?" Blair responded, his eyes never leaving the unconscious man's face. 

"Yeah, Ellison was top dog in Major Crimes. Took down the Switchman, you know the nut who was blowing up half the state? He got caught in the last blast though, heard they forced him to take disability. I'd better call Captain Banks." 

Blair talked to another officer, keeping one eye on the paramedics, as they worked on their patient. He told his story to the uniform, including the names of the students he'd recognized. He was forced to repeat it all to a very large black man whose demeanor made him more than a little nervous as the man alternated between glaring at him and shooting concerned gazes at the man on the stretcher. 

"Blair! Blair!" The injured man called frantically as the paramedics tried to take his blood pressure again. He could hear the younger man's heart beating frantically. 

"Hey, Jim. Calm down. I'm right here, and these nice folks are going to take you to the hospital. You okay with that?" Blair spoke softly as one hand hesitantly soothed the pain lines in the pale forehead. Jim grasped his wrist tightly. "Okay, Jim, I think I'll come with you if that works for everybody. That be alright with you?" 

"Chief?" 

"I'm right here." That seemed to reassure the injured man, and he lost consciousness. 

Simon Banks, Captain of Cascade's Major Crimes Unit, watched the display, fascinated. He'd never seen Jim Ellison reach out to anyone. Hell, even when Ellison had been married he'd been one self-contained unit. Who the hell was the kid, and what was he to Ellison? 

He got his chance to find out in the ER waiting room. "Mr. Sandburg, how long have you known Detective Ellison?" 

Blair's head jerked up, and he found himself staring into very wary brown eyes. "Since the beginning of the semester. We met at the U." 

"Do you know why those men attacked the Detective?" 

"I think so. Leon's the center on the football team, and he's always skating close to the eligibility edge. He was giving me a hard time a couple of weeks ago about a paper he'd turned in. He got a little carried away, and Jim, ah Detective Ellison, stopped him." 

"So they beat the crap out of him?" 

"He is going to be alright, isn't he?" Blair asked softly, blue eyes clouded with worry. 

"Lucky for Ellison his head happens to be his hardest part," Simon responding, suddenly realizing just how upset the kid was. "And to think I figured going back to school would be a "safe" activity. I should have known better," he finished almost to himself. Further conversation was cut off when the doctor walked out. 

"Captain Banks, I thought Ellison was on disability?" 

"He is, Dr. Jamison." 

"Then what the hell is he doing in my ER?" 

"Seems he stepped in and stopped a football goon who was threatening a professor, and the goon and some of his friends decided to get even." 

"Figures. He's bruised and battered but aside from the fact they bounced his head off the pavement a few times, he's not really any worse for wear. He wants to go home, which is alright as long as there is someone to keep an eye on him." 

"I'll stay with Jim," the long haired man in the corner piped up. "If someone could give us a ride, that is. My car's still at the U." 

The doctor looked at the smaller man carefully. "Let's go ask Ellison." Blair followed the doctor into the treatment room while Simon Banks headed for the nearest door. He had some checking to do on one Blair Sandburg. 

"Chief, you alright?" Jim asked anxiously as soon as he caught sight of the younger man. 

"I'm fine, Jim. You're the one in the classy hospital gown. I should be asking you." Blair put a hand on the muscular arm and felt some of the tension leave the bigger man's body. 

"I'm okay. I'd be better if they'd let me go home." 

"Mr. Sandburg has offered to stay with you, if I agree to release you. If you promise to listen to him and follow my directions, I'll let you out in about an hour. What do you say?" 

Jim's head tilted slightly as he regarded his new friend. "You sure about this, Sandburg?" 

"Hey, it's the least I can do, considering you're only in here because you helped me out." The intense blue gaze remained on him, and Blair met it calmly. 

"Thank you," Jim responded, a slight smile playing across his bruised face. 

"Mr. Sandburg, I'll write out a list of instructions and give you some Motrin he can take for the pain, and I'll dig up a cane since I noticed his didn't make it in." 

After thanking the doctor, Blair looked back at the patient. "I'll go tell Captain Banks..." 

"Simon's here? Shit." Jim aborted his effort to sit up as his rib cage weighed in. 

"Easy, man, easy. Be nice to the Captain, Jim. Both our cars are still at the U so if you really want to go home tonight, we're going to have to hitch a ride. I'll be right back, okay?" 

"I'm not going anywhere without you, Chief." 

Banks was waiting for the student. "Mr. Sandburg." 

"Blair." 

"Blair, I'll give Ellison a ride back to his loft, and then I'll take you back to your car." 

"Hey, I'm staying with Jim tonight. It's the only reason the doctor agreed to let him go home. And to tell you the truth, Captain, I get the impression that for some reason Jim and hospitals don't mix." 

"You're right. But you just met Jim a few weeks ago, why are you willing to sit up all night with him?" 

"He's only in here because he tried to help me. I think I owe him for that. Besides, we had the workings of a pretty good friendship going before I wrecked it." 

Simon Banks couldn't help himself, he found himself liking the kid. "What happened?" 

"I found out Jim had lived with the Chopec - and I kind of, well...I confronted him about it - rather loudly, in fact. See, I'm working on my doctorate in anthropology. I mentioned the Chopec, and he never said a word." 

"Then how did you know?" 

"I Googled him...I know, I know it was an invasion of his privacy - at least that's how he took it. I didn't mean it that way, Captain Banks. I was just...curious, that's all." 

"Ellison is a very private person, Mr. Sandburg. I suggest if there is something you want to know, ask him. If he chooses not to answer, let it go." 

"Captain Banks," Jim said guardedly from his spot on the side of the bed. 

"Cut the crap, Jim. You don't work for me anymore so you can call me by my given name." 

"Thanks for the reminder, sir," was the angry response. 

"Jim, give me a break! We've been over this a hundred times." A nurse entered the room pushing a wheelchair. 

"Saved by the bell," the patient whispered as he pushed himself carefully to his feet; one hand reaching out to steady himself on Sandburg's shoulder. 

The drive to the loft was quiet, broken only when Jim insisted they open the windows, complaining the smell of the Captain's favorite cigars was overwhelming. Blair was puzzled as the Captain wasn't smoking and he couldn't smell anything. He remained silent, though as the Captain sighed wearily and opened the two front windows. 

Blair surveyed the loft with a low whistle as he took in the clean, uncluttered almost sterile place. "How long you lived here, Jim?" 

"Five years, why?" 

"Nice place, man. Great view of the harbor." 

"Yeah, that was the selling point. Look, I'm going to take a shower - can't stand that hospital smell, and then I'm headed to bed. There's a futon in the room under the stairs. It has clean sheets on it. Help yourself to whatever's in the fridge." 

Fifteen minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom wearing only a towel. The TA took a deep breath, and let it out slowly as he got a look at the sleek, muscular form. Telling himself that throwing his body at the battered man was so not a good idea, he took a deep breath and took a different tact. "Wow, they really did a number on you," he said as his eyes traced the emerging bruises along his rib cage. "Do you have any tiger balm?" 

"Yeah, in the medicine cabinet." 

"Might help you get to sleep, and will certainly make it easier to move tomorrow if I rub some in. Take a seat. I heated up some soup in case you're hungry. It's in the microwave." 

"Make yourself at home," Jim whispered with a smile as he searched for a bowl. 

Lying in his bed above the loft, staring up into the skylight, the injured man pondered why he was listening to the younger man's heartbeat. What was it about the TA? He knew he was not a touchy feely person. He had, as his ex described it, a very large, well-defined sense of personal space, yet from the first meeting, he had wanted to keep Sandburg close. And tonight when the solid, square hands callused from too much computer work had rubbed the soothing tiger balm in he'd wanted nothing more than to lean into that gentle touch. He was really loosing it, he decided, or maybe it was just the fact that he'd been on his own for so long that having someone close, anyone close, felt good. Convinced that was his problem, he closed his eyes. 

The jungle was blue - that was how all his visions began. He hated them. His spirit animal, a black jaguar, stood at the edge of the clearing watching a young wolf - why there was a wolf in the jungle was a question for another day. A light growl reclaimed his attention, and the jungle warrior form he assumed in his visions walked into the clearing with the jaguar. The wolf rolled over onto its back baring its stomach and throat. The jaguar sniffed carefully at the furry belly before moving up to lick the black muzzle, a gesture which the wolf returned. There was movement in the trees and the warrior looked up. There was Incacha, his mentor, and beside him was...oh my god, it was Sandburg! Jim bolted upright in bed, crying out as the pain in his ribs protested the sudden movement. 

"Jim? Jim, you alright?" Blair moved quickly up the stairs, sliding to a stop beside the bed, and turning on the small lamp beside the bed. It nearly blinded the Sentinel, who whimpered in pain before burying his head in the pillow. Not fully understanding what was going on, Blair turned off the lamp and began to trace gentle circles on the broad back. "Easy, Jim, the light's off. You okay, now?" 

"Yeah," was the muffled reply. "Sorry, had a bad dream. Didn't mean to wake you." 

"Not a problem, man. It's about time for some more Motrin anyway. I don't understand why the doctor didn't give you something a little stronger." 

"I'm allergic to most pain killers," the older man's muffled voice emerged from the pillow. 

"Oh, okay. That makes sense. I'll go get you a glass of water." By the time he returned, the older man had restored his equilibrium somewhat and was sitting up against his pillows. "Jim, you sure you're alright?" 

"I'm fine, Chief. Being in the hospital brought back a few unpleasant memories, that's all. Try and get some sleep. And Blair," he said softly as the younger man headed for the stairs, "thank you for staying with me. I really do hate hospitals." 

Bright blue eyes met his. "You're welcome, Jim, now get some sleep." 

Jim lay in the darkness, his ears listening to the steady thump of his Guide's heartbeat. He knew why he'd had the vision - to remind him of Incaha's speech about finding his Guide and how he was to welcome the Guide into his life - as his equal, his protector and his life mate. "Too little, too late," he whispered to the darkness. "Maybe a year ago we could have worked something out, but there's no way he's going to want a damaged Sentinel." 

Downstairs in the small room under the loft, Blair lay staring at the ceiling. His brain was working overtime trying to put the puzzle that was Jim Ellison together. He knew he was missing a piece and that if he could only find it, it would unlock a mystery he felt he simply had to solve. 

Blair woke Jim up two more times over the course of the night and had breakfast well underway when the older man gingerly made his way down the stairs. After a brief shower, he took a seat at the breakfast table and Blair set a plate with eggs, bacon and toast in front of hm. "Umm, smells good, Chief. Thanks." 

Blair sat down as Jim took a forkful of eggs, only to stand up again when the older man forcefully pushed away from the table, one hand around his throat; the other grasping for his juice glass. 

"Jim? Jim, what's wrong?" 

"Pepper - you must have used the entire damn shaker! What are you trying to do - kill me?" 

"Easy man, I didn't do more than a quick pass with the salt or the pepper. In fact, I can't even taste it in mine." 

Jim sat back down heavily; head in his hands. Before Blair could ask another question the older man was out of his seat and headed for the door. "Jim?" 

"Banks is here," he responded, opening the door before there was a knock. The TA wasn't sure what to think as he watched Simon Banks drive off, leaving him in front of his car at the U. He felt like he'd been rushed out of the loft by Ellison before he could figure something out. There was something about the man...something oddly familiar even though they barely knew each other. He knew if he let it simmer and didn't press it, he'd figure out what he was missing. 

^^^^^ 

The TA pondered his new friend as he headed across the campus two weeks later to pick up a book he'd loaned a friend. He'd made a list of things that were "different" or maybe "unique" was a better word about the forensics student he was obsessing over. He was beginning to think he had enough pieces of the Ellison puzzle to strongly suggest that Jim might just be the embodiment of his dissertation - smell, taste, and sight were definitely better than most people's. But he had to find a way to make the older man bring it up. He was pretty sure if he raised it they'd never find all his body parts. 

His path took him by the science building, and he checked his watch. Jim's lab should have been dismissed a couple of minutes ago. He watched the mass of people leaving the building and spied the ex-cop at the back of the pack. "Hey Jim," he whispered, "you're leaning pretty heavily on your cane today - leg bothering you?" He wasn't sure which one of them was more surprised when the older man's head jerked up. He met the blue glare for a brief moment before bolting. 

Yup, he and Jim were going to have a conversation after he did a bit more digging. Maybe if he invited Captain Banks, he'd survive long enough to include it in his diss. 

^^^^^ 

"Ellison, its Banks." 

"Yes?" 

"Look, there was a fire at Sandburg's place - seems there was a drug lab in the warehouse next to his. The place is toast, and the kid doesn't have any place to stay." 

"Keep him there; I'll be right down...appreciate the call, sir." 

Jim's mind was racing and as he drove he pushed the boundaries of legal. Was the guide okay? Was it his fault? If he'd told Blair what he knew, he wouldn't have been in the warehouse in the first place. God, he was definitely losing his mind. 

He could smell the smoke at least three miles before he reached the warehouse. He had to push his nails into his thigh to keep from zoning. As he parked the truck, he could hear Blair's heart beating far too fast and smell his sadness. He made his way through the officers milling about and approached Simon. 

"Jim, he's over with the paramedics." The Captain pointed toward the ambulance. 

"Alright, if I take him home with me, now? I'll bring him down to the precinct tomorrow to file a report." 

"Sure. I'll give you a call in the morning." 

"Captain...thank you for calling me." Jim added before heading for his Guide. 

"Chief, you okay?" He asked as he rounded the back of the ambulance. 

"Jim? What are you doing here?" 

"Heard you could use a room for the night - and limo service is one of many perks at Chez Ellison." 

The smile warmed the younger man who was still in shock from the explosion, and the fact that he'd just lost the first place he'd ever called home. "Jim, there's a couch in my office, I can," but he wasn't allowed to finish. 

"Sorry, Chief, having slept on more than my fair share of couches, I can attest to the fact they're bad for your back, and I know from experience that the showering facilities at the loft are far superior to those at the U. So what do you say?" Jim had to resist the urge to simply bundle the young man up and take him home. 

"You sure, Jim? I don't want to put you out." 

"Not a problem. There's plenty of room. If you're ready, we can go. I'll bring you back tomorrow, and we'll see what we can salvage." He was carefully leading the man back toward his truck as he spoke. 

They were quiet on the way home, and Jim sent him directly to shower once they arrived at the loft. He changed the sheets on the futon and started dinner. After playing with the spaghetti, Blair disappeared into the small room. Jim completed his clean up, checked the door and the windows and retired upstairs. 

Not sure what woke him, he lay still letting his senses check the loft. He smelled salt...that made no sense at all until his hearing told him that his houseguest was crying. He was out of the bed and down the stairs before his brain caught up with his instinctive need to offer comfort to this man. He hesitated outside the small room and entered as another soft sob reached his ears. 

Sitting carefully on the side of the small futon, he placed a hand between trembling shoulder blades and began rubbing in comforting circles. "It'll be okay, Blair, I promise you." He whispered. "It'll be okay." 

Blair turned onto to his back and looked into warm blue eyes full of concern. "God, Jim," he uttered before he threw himself at the man, sighing as strong arms pulled him close. "It was everything. Everything is gone... everything." 

"You're alive and whatever we don't recover we'll replace. You're not alone, Chief. I'm here and I'll help you. My word. We'll get through this. It'll be alright." He kept up a steady murmur of reassurance for several minutes as his senses used the opportunity to imprint the younger man on his soul. 

As the crying wound down, Blair lifted his face up and a hand found Jim's cheek. The two men stared at each other for a long moment before Blair moved in for a kiss. Jim went willingly, the Sentinel needing to taste his Guide. 

* * *

End 

Student Sentinel by Ice Bear: jqwebdog@aol.com  
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Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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